


and I don't feel right when you're gone

by salanderjade (whowhatsitwhich)



Category: The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: F/M, PIP Day 5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-29
Updated: 2014-08-29
Packaged: 2018-02-15 08:04:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2221659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whowhatsitwhich/pseuds/salanderjade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary:  It doesn’t happen as often as it used to but there are still bad days and long nights.  The nights I wake up alone are when that old familiar terror takes hold.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and I don't feel right when you're gone

 

I wake up to cold sheets on the other side of the bed and silence. It doesn't happen as often as it used to but there are still bad days and long nights. My hand ghosts over the pillow opposite mine and I feel the slight indentation where his head rested a few short hours ago. He never wakes me up when the nightmares leave him trembling and gasping for breath. Sometimes, I sleep through. Sometimes, I awaken to his fingers gliding ever so gently over my face; as if he's trying to memorize every line and curve. Those times, I cup his chin and stare into those haunted, beloved eyes and whisper his name until he comes back to me.

But the nights I wake up alone are when that old familiar terror takes hold. He's gone again, somewhere I cannot follow, and who knows if or when he'll come home. My feet find the floor and I go searching, moving like a wraith through the house. My first stop is the kitchen, hoping that I'll find him there, wrist deep in dough and the scent of fresh bread filling up the air. It's dark and deserted, lit only by the light of a waning moon. "Peeta," I let his name slip as my eyes seek out every shadowed corner. My only answer is the wind's low murmur through the eaves.

I retrace my steps and go back upstairs, knowing that he can't be far. He'd never leave without telling me. He said always and there's no way he'd break that promise. Not ever. Not Peeta. Each door yields to my touch, but the rooms beyond are stark and bare. "Peeta, please." Back to the bedroom. Nothing. The room that used to be Prim's. Empty. "Peeta, where are you?" My voice grows frantic as I fling open the last door. Be here. Please, oh please, be here. But he's not. He's nowhere. The scream leaves my lips before I realize that horrible, forlorn, throat-rending sound is coming from me. "Peeta!"

His footsteps are heavy on the stairs as he calls my name. By the time he reaches me, I'm on my knees, my voice growing hoarse from my screams. "Shh, Katniss," he gathers me in, warm and solid and real, and I bury my face in the warm hollow of his neck. "It's okay. Hush, love, I've got you."

"I couldn't find you." My voice trembles like a leaf in a high wind. "I looked and I called for you and you weren't there. I thought they'd taken you and I couldn't get to you. I couldn't…"

His hand rubs soothing circles on my back, and he gives a distressed moan when he feels the tremors that wrack my limbs. Peeta thumbs away my tears, and then holds me close, breathing reassurance into my hair. "I was in the back yard. I couldn't sleep and you looked so peaceful, I didn't have the heart to disturb you. I'm so sorry, Katniss."

My fingers find purchase in his tousled blond curls and I don't hesitate before pulling his lips down to mine. His breath leaves him in a rush but his fingers twine in my braid and our mouths align fully. I feel that thing again…a hunger that seethes and scorches and burns as it floods every part of me. I come back to life, my blood frothing in my veins as his lips stake their claim. He's the only one who can make me feel this way. This boy, with his sweet smile and strong arms and gentle hands, has the power to pull me out of the dark. I have plenty of fire on my own but it's him and only him that makes me burn.


End file.
